Platitudes

Robert discovered something important as he tried to comfort James through the grief of Shadow's death. I want to record it here.

Just a couple days before Shadow's passing, Robert was remembering two specific instances from the last couple of years when I had made a mistake that ruined his property or hurt his feelings. In each of those cases, I had genuinely said, "I'm so sorry for XYZ. I want to make it better somehow. How can I make this up to you?" He couldn't think of anything in the moment so I said, "When you think of something that will help, please let me know." He has since felt like he had two unfulfilled promises that I owed him and he didn't ever want to forget, even though the pain from those experiences had faded and he didn't really care anymore. Last week, he was trying to decide if he should eventually ask for something to make up for the pain of the moment it happened or the pain he felt currently about the incident. And this was no simple conversation to have with him. There was writhing indecision on the floor, a flood of different emotions (residual pain, love, forgiveness, justice, impatience, and fear to name a few) and he just couldn't get a grip on what he wanted or what to do. He was paralyzed. He asked what I would do in his situation. And because he is SO STINKING LITERAL most of the time, I asked him if he wanted my adult answer or the answer I would give as a 10-year-old kid. That piqued his interest and he asked for both.

As an adult, I would try to let go of the pain from those instances and move on without feeling like they owed me anything. A lot of times, there's nothing someone else can do to make the hurt any better.

As a 10-year-old kid, I would try to get the most I could out of the situation, even if I didn't really have hurt feelings anymore.

Robert then asked a very keen question, "If there isn't anything you can do to fix it, then why even SAY you want to do something to make it better?! It means nothing!"

"I said it because I genuinely wanted to make things better. That's truly how I felt. And I still do. Even if I knew there was nothing I could then or now to fix it."

He thought about that for a while. Then we talked about whether these hurts were the kind I could do something about. It turns out, he was just as concerned about making me feel better about them as he was about making himself feel better. Once we figured that out, it was easy. He grew visibly more comfortable and his whole body relaxed a little. I told him I would feel better if he weren't burdened with these unfulfilled promises. He wanted the same. We threw out a couple compensation ideas. He said, "Just do/give whatever you think is fair and will make you feel better." Then he smiled warmly and rested his head on my shoulder as he let out a big sigh. I could tell that that was the resolution he so badly wanted. He was free of his burden. He freed me of mine. I later made a deposit (of an undisclosed amount) into his allowance account. Done.

Two days later, James watched me carefully and solemnly cleaning out Shadow's now vacated tank. James was sobbing, but wanted to be part of it all. Robert desperately wanted to help James feel better. He found himself saying, "James, if there's anything I can do to help you feel better, please let me know." We intuitively knew Robert could do nothing. Robert knew it, too, and yet it was truly how he felt. When James went to get something, Robert and I were left alone with the tank. Robert looked over at me and said with quiet realization, "Mom, I think I know how you felt when you said you wanted to help, but knew there was nothing you could do. I think I know why you said it anyway." Then he smiled warmly again.

Platitude no more.